


The Woods

by LysSerris



Series: One-Shot [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Dark Hermione Granger, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 06:37:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19901407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LysSerris/pseuds/LysSerris
Summary: The villagers swear there are monsters in these woods.





	The Woods

**Author's Note:**

> Roughly edited. Might make this more than a one shot eventually.

“Monsters? Ha!” Hermione’s laugh was breathy and full of mirth at the statement, her smile wide and eyes glinting.

“Truly though, the villagers swear by it,” the merchant quivered and glanced all around himself as he spoke, “They showed me things, bites and scratches, the doors all busted in at night. It has to be something!”

Hermione brushed a lock of auburn hair out of her face, gently nudging the curl behind her ear like all the others. She looked at him, really looked, and saw that he believed what he said. What they said. 

‘Weasley’s Wheezes’, the sign painted onto his cart proclaimed in red paint on brown wood, letters aged and peeling from years on the road. His hair, likewise red, and poor traveling cloak, red again, were spattered through with mud and grime from where he’d tumbled off into the dirt when his cart’s wheel had snapped in two.

“What’s the name mean?” She asked as sincerely as she could, figuring it only polite she converse while leading him down the path. Her cloak swished behind her as she moved, brown traveling boots kicking at dirt and weeds as she guided them forward.

“My brothers named it. Our last name,” he paused to cough and wheeze out a pained breath, “Plus the name of the family ailment.” He kept behind her at a close range, obviously afraid to wander anywhere off the beaten path. His eyes were wide and darting all over as he looked for danger behind each leaf and twig.

“What goods are you selling with that name? Not something to do with that cough I hope.”

“Ha! We are actually. It’s a funny story. Our grandad needed medicine, an’ none was available. Had to work it out himself n’ came up with a right good trick. A few herbs, some time spent mixing, soon enough he’d cured his cough and that of ten others. Went into business sellin’ em’. My brothers are the ones who decided we should travel, try to get the name out and wares as well.”

Feet crunched leaf and twig alike as they passed further on into the forest, the light turning green and sickly as it filtered down through the tops of the trees. All around them the sound of nature called as the man, boy really, kept silent in the wake of his explanation.

“So why come out here so far?” Her voice was filled with sincerity as she asked, genuinely wanting to know, genuinely wanting his trust. 

“Well we expanded west of Hogsmeade last year, that left Godric’s Hollow and that godsforsaken village down the road. My brothers are my elders, they got their pick of places to visit, an’I got the shite.”

“Ah, I see.” Her tone was light, musical even, as she threw out her hands to touch the trees as they passed, fingers pressing gently against bark and branch.

“So why do you live out here anyways?” His question was clipped, punctuated by a stumble along the underbrush and a curse uttered lowly beneath his breath.

“I live out here with my wife,” she replied, turning about as she walked to give a smile as she continued, “The village didn’t agree with us, so we left and built ourselves a home. It’s small, but we love it.”

“Even with all this Monster business about?”

“Yes,” her smile evened, “Even with all that.”

\---

The trail continued well on into the depths of green and brown as light turned to shade and the sun above them withered. Insects, crickets and cicadas mostly, kept up a rhythm as they moved forward, the silence stretching out between them.

Ronald was frightened. Scared, really. He’d been so sure of himself when he’d left the town and its crazy inhabitants behind. He’d been ready to be back on the road and off towards more civilized locations before he’d even sold half his items. It wasn’t that the  _ town _ was bad. But the people? Ninny’s, the lot of em’. 

They’d showed him doors torn off their hinges, long raking claw marks buried into the stone foundations of homes and stores. Three people dead, twice as many missing. It was insane. He couldn’t make out a way they’d have created those marks themselves or why they’d lie about the missing, and so had come at once to accept that yes,  _ something  _ lurked in the woods.

Unfortunately for him some strange twist of fate had decided he’d needed to stick around just a bit longer. 

His cart was old and though the mule pulling it wasn’t all that spry anymore he’d never once had any issues with it. That changed once he was on his way. An errant hole had trapped his mules leg, snapping it in two like a twig as the animal moved forward at his hard pace. His cart had veered off after that, rolling on after the limping animal. 

And then it had just cracked. Fallen into the depression and torqued too far to the right, snapping the thick wood of the wheel and leaving him high and dry.

In a forest.

The  _ Forbidden _ Forest.

Alone.

And yet here was this broad wandering about, skipping really, on the only road out of town and saying she said she lived,  _ lived, _ in these woods!

It beggared belief.

\---

“So then, have you seen this monster? Or any like it?” He asked her as they neared the lands she called home, “Have anythin’ that goes bump in the night?”

“Ha,” the sound of her laughter was melodic and mirthful, eager and proud, “No, no. Nothing goes bump in the night besides the normal animals, around us anyway. Though I can’t speak for those villagers or anyone else that passes through these woods.”

“Well then what do you think their monster is then? A bear?”

“Don’t know. Why do you think there’s only one?”

His reply, whatever it would have been, was cut off when they stepped forward into the clearing surrounding her home. All around the open space the sounds of forest and insects died off as though they were stepping past a veil, quiet and removed from everything surrounding them.

“Ah, home sweet home,” she turned him around and grinned, his eyes catching and widening slightly. “Bellatrix!” Her yelling was loud and echoed around them as the sound bounced off of the trees, a cloud overhead moving forward as it covered the sky and removed the last bit of sunlight.

The cottage was square, humble and small, topped by a thatched roof and a small chimney that poured smoke out into the quickly darkening sky. Staves had been pounded into the ground outside the door and lit on fire to provide the semblance of light to the pathway, nothing else besides the glow behind shuttered windows breaking into the night. The door opened up when the echo of Hermione’s voice faded into the distance and her partner, love, soulmate, stepped out and into the cool nighttime air.

“Pet,” she ground out, walking forward and embracing the smaller woman while Ronald looked on, “Who’s this?”

“Ronald Weasely, ma’am,” he offered out his hand for a shake, following just the form his father wanted and that his brothers had drilled into him for business work, “Salesman for Weasley’s Wheezes, pleasure to meet you.”

She stared back at him with coal-black eyes while Hermione looked on, smile wide and eyes still gleaming in the stuttering torchlight. 

“He needed help n’ was alone on the road. Figured I’d bring him through,” her voice was light and airy as she spoke and Bellatrix glanced between the two before taking the proffered hand and gripping down tightly.

“Bellatrix. The feelings likewise Mr. Weasely.”

\---

Ronald followed quietly behind them as they led the way into their home. As he stepped past the threshold he was immediately assaulted by the wonderful smells of meat cooking over a fire. It was a single room; one large and circular space, holding a bench with chairs in the middle while a single bed stood off to one side, fireplace and cooking spot on the other. All around him and pushed against the walls were boxes and trunks of unusual sizes, all closed and locked while stacked neatly on top or against one another.  
  


Unease that had been building from the moment he’d stepped into the forest began to prickle against the back of his spine with unusual force even as his stomach rumbled hungrily. The two women stepped off towards the fireplace to leaving him standing near the entrance with his hat in his hands and an odd look stuck on his face. Slabs of meat hung from cords attached to the beams above the fireplace and his stomach seemed to clench down even further as he stared at the pinkish muscle and white marbling of fat.

“..did..ood...ight?” 

He could barely hear the whisper from the woman who’d led him through the forest as their backs were turned to him, and they seemed to be inspecting whatever was simmering away directly on top of the fire, a large cauldron filled with something that sounded like it was boiling and had a cloud of steam wafting above it.

“Ahem,” he cleared his throat, unease growing even more for some reason he couldn’t define. The atmosphere of the room that had once inviting and smelling of  _ home, _ now pressed in on him the longer the pair remained in their corner, conversing quietly. “Any chance of getting that wheel?”

“Oh, yes, yes,” Hermione waved her hand and left the other woman’s side to come over to him, her hands clamping down on his shoulder and arm as she led him towards the table in the center. “I’ll get that. But it’s far too late Mr. Weasely, surely you’d like to stay for dinner and rest? No one will leave the village at night, your wares will be perfectly fine to return to in the morning.” He pulled back his arm as her grip tightened even further, a strange look crossing her face that disappeared before he could even register it.

After a moment of thought he knew couldn’t argue with her request. She was right. His wares would be perfectly fine on their own and the villagers had said they’d instituted a curfew, no one would try to rob him or cart off his wares. And that smell floating about the room was doing work on his stomach as it drew him in and reminded him how long he’d gone with no good homemade food.

“Well, if you say so. I wouldn’t want to be caught by those monsters, or whatever they are.”

“Oh, Mr. Weasely,” Bellatrix sauntered over with a plate in one hand and a knife in another, “There are no monsters in these woods.”

Hermione’s hand sat him down at a chair, fingers gripping tightly upon his shoulder as Bellatrix came to his other side and Hermione leaned down towards his ear.

“There’s only us.”

**Author's Note:**

> Random piece, based off a prompt.


End file.
